


Like A Wildfire (Coursing Through My Veins)

by Momokai



Category: The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity, 阴阳师 | Yīn Yáng Shī | The Yin-yang Master (Movies - Guo Jingming)
Genre: #FoxBrain, Aftercare is Sexy, Anal Fingering, Animal Instincts, B I N G O, Because of Reasons, Beta'd We Are Shook, Biting, Body Worship, Boya Can’t Come To The Phone Right Now Please Leave A mESSAGE, Boya’s ass get ATE, Breeding Kink, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Excessive Come, First Time Bottoming, Gratuitous Smut, Hair-pulling, Half Fox Demon!Qingming, Head Empty Only Boya!Qingming, Look He Tries But Like Honey No, M/M, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, No Refractory Period, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Qingming is a Little Shit, Qingming over here enthusiastically popping Boya’s buttstuff cherry, Qingming: Monk In The Streets Demon In The Sheets, Rimming, Rough Sex, Tender Sex, Top Qingming, Went For The Kink Bingo Blackout Ya'll, and then, coming on command, discord made me do it, like wow, teef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momokai/pseuds/Momokai
Summary: Qingming is but a man. A weak, besotted man with a hard on he could probably hammer nails with, and gods but did Boya have any idea what he did to him? Of course he wants to take him, of course he wants to make him his in all the ways he can.
Relationships: Qingming/Boya
Comments: 15
Kudos: 139





	Like A Wildfire (Coursing Through My Veins)

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you make the mistake of asking for tags from your thirsty ass [YYM Discord](https://discord.gg/JFDS7gGJV5) server; you end up with 13k of pure fucking ლ(ಠ益ಠლ)
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [Kenaressa ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenaressa), who endured my bullshit and edited at my thirst without judgment. Mostly. 
> 
> Switching it up a bit with Qingming's name. Seeing how I like it written without the spacing. 
> 
> Enjoy.

If there is one thing that Qingming has come to appreciate about his relationship with Boya, it’s that it never ceases to surprise and amaze him. There is always something new and unexpected around every corner, always something that he learns about his lover  _ and himself  _ with every interaction, and Qingming loves every second of it- even when Boya grumbles over it, shy or uncertain under the weight of Qingming’s rapt attention. 

He learned early on that Boya is not well versed in the art of expression- so accustomed to keeping to himself and not at all used to the idea of someone being genuinely  _ interested  _ in him that it makes him somewhat reticent at times; caught flatfooted and left falling reflexively back on a habitual propriety that would come across as stringent or even hostile to anyone else. But Qingming  _ knows  _ Boya as well as anyone can know another person- he knows what it means when Boya clams up when faced with compliments; knows what it means when he questions Qingming’s character as he touches Boya in ways either entirely innocent or not fit for polite company. He knows that when Boya’s lips draw tight and his eyes narrow, he is fighting a smile; knows that when he clears his throat in seeming disinterest, he is actually choking back a laugh. 

He can’t hide from Qingming because Qingming is attuned to him in ways that no purely mortal man can be.

Others would say Boya is austere, distant, untouchable, downright surly at times- and while he most certainly  _ can  _ be these things, he is also kind, noble, and so compassionate that Qingming’s heart sometimes  _ aches.  _

In essence, Qingming knows not to take any of Boya’s attitude personally. More often than not, it’s simply a case of his lover falling back on what he  _ knows  _ when he’s unsure, and he is  _ frequently  _ unsure when it comes to their relationship. Qingming would have thought himself Boya’s  _ first  _ if not for the clear experience his companion has in the physical aspects of their relationship. But then again, one can be very experienced in matters of pleasure while having exactly  _ none  _ in the emotional side of things. Boya is so often caught off guard by the little things that sometimes it hurts, and Qingming renews his silent vows to do everything in his power to cherish and fiercely protect what they have together, what is  _ his _ \- and he looks forward to the day Boya no longer has to fall back on anything other than Qingming’s helpless love for him. 

It’s a relationship built on the mutual and inevitable pull of two souls destined for each other converging. Whilst it had started on rocky ground it had quickly found footing and taken them on a journey in learning each other, building a steady foundation of mutual respect and trust that had seen them  _ saving the world  _ together and working harmoniously thereafter _.  _ Their companionship has only progressed in leaps and bounds over the sparse years since the Heaven Worship Ceremony that brought them together, and Qingming has delighted in every moment whilst something in him purrs it’s satisfaction because Boya is  _ his  _ and his alone. 

_ Few moments more so than now _ , he thinks gleefully as he lies draped over Boya’s naked back, gently sinking his teeth into the warm skin of his shoulder and earning a muffled exhale from the man. Qingming releases the skin from between his lips and soothes it with his tongue; one hand supporting his weight over his lover while the other delicately holds the bulk of his loose hair away from his neck so he can press his lips against the soft skin behind his ear, his own extensive locks just barely remaining at his back.

Boya is pliant beneath him, belly down on the bed and completely bare whilst Qingming maintains the pants of his lounging robe. They’ve been like this for nearly an hour- Boya restless but mostly patient while Qingming takes his time exploring and petting him; in no hurry at all and fully intent on savoring the unexpected opportunity presented to him almost timidly that very evening.

Qingming and Boya have most certainly been intimate numerous times throughout the length of their relationship; they’d gone through the predictable  _ honeymoon phase  _ with all the enthusiasm and passion of new lovers as most tend to; but it has always been  _ Qingming  _ on his back or in Boya’s lap, on his knees or bent over. He has always been content with that thoroughly enjoyable arrangement, having no preference outside of simply having  _ Boya  _ in any way he  _ can.  _ He has wondered at it of course, thinking it perhaps a mere quirk of his lover’s that revolves around his almost obsessive need for control; even upset himself once thinking it could mayhaps be the result of previous bad experience despite the fact that literally no signs of such exist. 

He will also readily admit to  _ fantasizing  _ a time or fifty- Boya is  _ breathtaking  _ and Qingming would have to be  _ dead  _ not to imagine how he might respond beneath Qingming; would he proceed with the same predatory grace and confidence he exudes when mounting Qingming, or would he be as hesitant and uncertain as he tends to be when confronted with Qingming’s casual affections? Would he restrain his sounds as he usually does, or be overcome enough to stoke Qingming’s passion with his cries? How would he feel around Qingming’s cock? How would he look taking it?  _ How would he look with Qingming’s teeth in his skin and his body spreading around him- _

All questions Qingming will be getting answers to soon enough, because Boya had  _ surprised  _ him that evening by somewhat tentatively offering up his  _ own  _ body for Qingming’s pleasure. Qingming might have nearly had a heart attack from the immediate and heady rush of arousal that had slammed into him when the words had finally registered. He had accepted eagerly of course, because despite the uncharacteristic bashfulness all but radiating from Boya, he had been sincere in his offer and Qingming is but a man. A weak, besotted man with a hard on he could probably hammer nails with, and gods but did Boya have  _ any idea  _ what he did to him? Of  _ course  _ he wants to take him, of  _ course  _ he wants to make him  _ his  _ in all the ways that he can, as if he already  _ isn’t- _

Qingming releases Boya’s hair and smooths his hand down the supple skin of his side, fingertips tracing the curves of muscle greedily as he presses an open mouthed kiss to the back of his neck. Boya is silent and still beneath him, apparently willing to allow Qingming his indulgence. 

A part of him wants desperately to reach for the oil so that he might open Boya up quickly and bury himself inside; his arousal such that it tents his pants obscenely and threatens to crack his restraint. Another, larger, part of him wants to indulge himself and Boya both; wants fiercely to take his time and undo his lover one thread at a time until one of them snaps and just  _ takes.  _ He wants to make it as enjoyable an experience as he possibly can because Boya will forever deserve the best things life and Qingming can offer; and a small, possessive part of Qingming wants to ruin him for anyone else ever again because Boya is  _ his _ \- and who knows, if he performs to satisfaction, perhaps Boya will allow him this indulgence again. 

Nosing into Boya’s nape to inhale the pleasant, subtle scent of him Qingming finally allows himself to settle more fully over his lover; lowering his hips to slowly grind against the swell of his naked rump, exhaling roughly at the stimulation to his straining arousal and inwardly marveling over the way Boya arches almost instinctively against him, pressing his ass more firmly into his cock and fraying Qingming’s self control with that single action alone. 

Qingming pulls away from Boya’s neck and descends to press a biting kiss into the top of his spine; marking him before laving the reddening skin with his tongue and then shuffling lower down his body to do it again against the skin of his hip. His hand smoothing down Boya’s spine as he descends until he’s cupping one firm cheek between his fingers and squeezing. Boya makes a vaguely exasperated sound as Qingming removes his lips from the skin of his hip to admire his lover’s shapely ass, fingers digging gently into the plump flesh and all but fondling it.

“Pervert.” Boya mutters into his pillow, and Qingming smiles, canting his head in unrepentant acknowledgement of the fact before grasping Boya’s ass in full with both hands, thumbs pressing into the firm muscle and mouth watering at the delectable sight of it against his fingers. Qingming has always appreciated beautiful things, and has always been an avid admirer of Boya’s…  _ assets _ \- his lover’s physique one fit for statues within shrines through years of hard training and combat; a weapon just as honed as his sword or bow and one Qingming is always too happy to grasp. His lover is  _ strong  _ and  _ virile  _ and  _ so beautiful- _

Qingming swallows the frankly ridiculous amount of saliva wetting his mouth and shifts further back on his knees to lean down and press his lips beside his thumb; kissing the pert curve of his lovers rump before abruptly sinking his teeth into it. Boya jumps beneath his palms; more surprised than pained and grumbles something vaguely insulting before subsiding as Qingming soothes the bite with his tongue, humming in satisfaction at the red mark in the shape of his teeth slowly blooming against Boya’s skin. 

Licking it a final time, Qingming withdraws only slightly and slides his thumbs over the skin in his hands; drawing them inward until he’s sliding them unerringly into the crease of Boya’s ass. He feels his lover tense even as he dips forward with an impish smile and draws his thumbs apart abruptly, spreading Boya indecently and baring him in full. 

Boya goes absolutely rigid in shock, but Qingming doesn’t even hesitate before diving in for a taste; swiping the flat of his tongue over Boya’s exposed entrance and delighting in the way his lover jerks.

“What-  _ Qingming!”  _ Boya splutters, voice high in startlement, and Qingming glances up at him over the peaks of his ass to find his companion twisting to gape at him over his shoulder, eyes wide and hair askew. Qingming meets his eyes and smiles wickedly before he does it again- dragging his tongue over the twitching ring of muscle before pressing an open mouthed kiss against it. Boya makes a choked sound and drops his face back into his pillow, hiding from Qingming’s dark gaze even as he apparently struggles to decide whether to jerk away from his mouth or press back into it. His hips hitch against the bedding as Qingming spreads him further between his hands and presses the tip of his tongue against his hole, testing the resistance. He hears Boya muffle a soft sound into the pillow and tuts quietly to himself, thinking that  _ that  _ won’t do at all- and renews his efforts, laving his tongue over his lover’s fluttering, velveteen entrance before fixing his lips around it to suck lightly. Boya shudders with a short, hastily cut off groan and Qingming hums, pleased, before wiggling a thumb over beside his tongue to gently tug at his rim; parting his lover just enough to dip the tip of his tongue inside and moaning at the taste of him. 

_ “H-hah-  _ Qingming!” __

Boya bucks with a surprised groan, voice tight with pleasure as Qingming presses in deeper- chasing the taste of his skin and lapping wetly at the tight press of his walls, coaxing them to loosen as he absently soothes his lover with his hands, and gently kneading the trembling muscles of his rump even as he continues to eat him out. Boya’s legs twitch against the bedding before jerking further apart- thighs widening and giving Qingming more room to work as he presses back into his mouth with a choked sound of enjoyment.

Withdrawing his tongue; Qingming lightly nips the sensitive edge of Boya’s entrance before dropping an open mouthed kiss to it and is rewarded with a high, breathless sound that goes right to Qingming’s cock. 

Pulling away slightly; Qingming wipes his wet chin against his shoulder before admiring his handiwork for a moment; heat roiling low in his belly at the sight of Boya’s pink entrance twitching and glistening with his saliva. Further up, Boya pants against his arms; shuddering as the tense coil of his body slowly begins to unwind now that the pleasurable assault on his hole has eased, and Qingming decides that he  _ can’t have that.  _

He dives back in without warning, pressing his tongue firmly against Boya’s entrance until it gives, and Qingming thrusts it in as deep as he can with a faint groan- his lover is so  _ tight  _ even just around his tongue. He’s going to need to take extra care to open him up  _ thoroughly  _ to avoid hurting him; a venture he finds himself greatly looking forward to as he thrusts his tongue into Boya in a lewd mimicry of _ other things  _ that has his lover finally moaning in earnest _.  _

Freeing one hand from Boya’s ass, Qingming flings it out to the side, blindly patting the mattress without removing his mouth from between his lover’s cheeks as he fumbles around the bedding for the oil he had brought with him. His fingers knock into it by Boya’s knee, and he grabs it in one hand before working the seal free with his thumb; simultaneously withdrawing his tongue from his companions body to press his lips against the wildly twitching rim of him in a wet kiss that has a shudder wracking up Boya’s bowed spine.

Qingming finally withdraws from his lover’s flank and sits back on his knees; absently raising an arm to wipe the saliva from his chin onto his forearm before bringing the open vial of oil to hover directly over Boya’s entrance, then tilting the vial until its contents spill from its confines to trickle into the crease of his ass and between his cheeks. Boya twitches as the cold oil comes into contact with sensitive skin, and Qingming swiftly recaps the vial to toss it aside before dipping the fingers of one hand into the mess- thumb pressing into the apex of his crease while he curls his fingers over his hole to spread the slick over his rim, the pad of one finger sinking just barely past the tight ring, testing. 

Boya’s hips twitch against the bedding, and Qingming hums lowly as he cautiously presses in a little deeper, swallowing thickly as his finger is slowly engulfed in tight, wet heat. The earlier coaxing of his tongue has loosened Boya only slightly, but it’s enough for him to slip in to the second knuckle in increments; withdrawing slightly and pressing back in to diligently work the oil into him to ease the intrusion. 

His lover pants into the arms he has clutched around the pillow beneath his head; back glistening faintly with sweat as he chokes back another sound, and Qingming’s gaze lingers on the vision he makes- pliant and willing on his belly with thighs spread wide around Qingming’s knees, spine arched and pressing back in little aborted thrusts while the master gently works oil in alongside his finger as he presses it steadily deeper. It’s a sight that goes right to Qingming’s cock, and his throat clicks loudly in the quiet of their rooms as he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the image presented to him to instead focus on his task. The view of his hand pressed against Boya’s ass with fingers curled over his fluttering hole does nothing to lessen the heady arousal pulsing through him. Qingming mouths a silent curse as he finally seats his finger completely; Boya’s body clenching hot and tight around him in ways that threaten to break him. 

Qingming pauses, giving his overwhelmed lover a moment to adjust; resting the hand not buried between his cheeks on the small of Boya’s back to smooth over the bow of his sweat damp spine. He strokes the warm skin in a meandering path to his hip as he carefully withdraws his finger, keeping the movement slow but steady until only the tip remains within him before pressing back in. Boya’s body welcomes his touch a little easier on the second pass; the stranglehold of his rim easing gradually as he relaxes into the foreign sensation, and Qingming makes a soft pleased sound as he sinks in on a fourth pass and gently hooks his finger, stroking Boya from within as he pulls out. The action is rewarded with a gasp and his lover pressing further back into his hand, wanton. 

Keeping his motions languid, Qingming diligently works his companion open, curling his finger to caress his walls on every other pass to stimulate him into relaxing further until his body gentles into his touch and welcomes it with ease. It’s a lengthy process that Qingming does not mind in the least as he softly rubs his thumb into Boya’s tailbone, massaging the oil into his skin even as he withdraws his finger to the first knuckle and brings a second in to lightly circle his opening. 

Nudging the tip of the second finger against Boya’s entrance alongside the first; he presses gently, cautious and unhurried until it gradually begins to sink inside- only to ease off when Boya abruptly makes a hastily bitten off pained sound that shocks Qingming still; hand pausing as he returns to stroking Boya’s hip, giving him a moment before leaning sideways to grab for the discarded vial of oil once again. 

“Are you alright?” Qingming asks as he thumbs the seal from the vial. Boya grunts, shifting against the bedding and burying his face deeper in his arms, abashed. 

“I’m fine.” He grumbles, voice muffled by his forearm. Qingming fights the urge to sigh; exasperated and fond in equal measure as he pours a little more oil around the finger still clutched within Boya’s body before resuming his slow, measured thrusts to work more of the lubricant inside of him. 

“You need to tell me if it hurts, Boya.” Qingming chides lightly; mildly incredulous that he even has to  _ say  _ such a thing considering Boya’s own experience in the matter. He himself has always taken care not to give Qingming more than he can take- which had not been an awful lot in the beginning, his body unused to the intrusion at first; however, Boya had been patient and diligent in preparing him in much the same way as Qingming is now. These days, Qingming’s body is quite well versed in the art of taking whatever his lover gives it- but Boya is not Qingming, and he is most certainly  _ not  _ accustomed to the presence of anything pushing into his body. 

Boya grunts in response to the admonishment, and Qingming can just barely see the tips of his ears turning red between the dark strands of his loose hair. Almost against his will, Qingming snorts, then hooks the finger buried in Boya’s ass impishly. 

“Not as easy as it looks, hmm?” He teases, and Boya jolts against the bedding with a sudden choked sound that tells Qingming that he has unintentionally struck gold. Smiling perhaps a touch too deviously; he curls his finger again, searching, and knows he’s found it when Boya abruptly bucks into his hand with a ragged gasp. 

“Ah.” Qingming says, delighted, before very deliberately pressing against the spot again; watching in rapt attention as Boya jerks against the mattress with a hastily bitten off sound that flirts deliciously with the possibility of being a cry of surprised pleasure. 

Focus narrowing somewhat predatorily; Qingming smooths his palm over the small of Boya’s back before pressing down on it, pinning his belly to the bed as he slowly sinks his finger deeper and strokes it firmly over the spot for a third time. Boya gasps, and Qingming feels his spine flex beneath his hand in a motion prevented by the weight pressing it down. 

Qingming withdraws from the spot, leaving Boya to pant wetly into his arms as he returns to the gentle thrusts of before; the wet glide of his finger much easier now. Carefully, Qingming attempts the second finger again, dipping it cautiously in alongside the first just as before. The extra oil goes a long way, and Qingming inhales deeply as the tip of his second finger sinks in and quickly lifts his gaze for a moment to check Boya for any signs of pain. His lover still has his face buried in his arms, making it difficult to tell for sure, but he doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable with the added intrusion so Qingming gently presses deeper until both fingers are buried to the second knuckle. 

Boya squirms beneath his heavy palm and Qingming pauses to give him a moment to adjust before slowly withdrawing. His lover’s body clenches hot and tight around his fingers as Qingming removes his hand from Boya’s back to retrieve the oil again. He unseals the vial with his thumb and pours a little more around where his fingers are buried in Boya before sinking them back in, pushing more oil into him with a lewd, wet sound that has Qingming twitching in his pants with the urge to  _ bury himself inside _ . 

Boya makes a muffled sound of pleasure into his arms as Qingming finally seats both fingers deep; squirming against the mattress in a way that pushes him further into Qingming’s hand, and the master hums lowly as he drops the oil aside once more and returns his palm to Boya’s back, pinning his belly against the bedding again. It’s not that he doesn’t want Boya to  _ writhe  _ for him, but it could potentially backfire for his lover at this juncture- his body is still so tight and unused to the intrusion that one wrong move could turn pleasure to pain and Qingming doesn’t want that.

Carefully, Qingming draws his fingers halfway from the slick heat only to sink them back in. Slowly he works more oil into him until every other slide of his fingers is accompanied by a delightfully obscene sound that goes right to his cock and has the back of Boya’s neck turning red, which in turn has Qingming’s smile twitching higher on one side. 

Sinking his fingers deep, Qingming withdraws them slowly- only this time he widens them just slightly as he goes; repeating the motion again and again, widening his fingers a little more each time to open his lover more with every pass. 

By the time Qingming is satisfied that his companion is stretched as well as he can be with only two fingers, Boya is breathing heavily into his crossed arms and his skin is slick with sweat; every other thrust of Qingming’s fingers drawing a soft, almost needy sound from his throat that threatens Qingming’s tenuous restraint. 

“Qingming.” Boya pants, finally unburying his face from his arms to lift his head and twist, leveling the master with eyes gone deepest black with arousal. Qingming swallows thickly under the weight of the stare; returning it evenly as he leans a little more weight onto the palm pinning Boya’s hips to the bed before thrusting his fingers with a touch more force, aiming for  _ that  _ spot with devious intent. 

The effect is instant; Qingming watches greedily as Boya’s red bitten lips fall open around a surprised moan and he collapses back into his arms, spine arching beneath his palm. Groaning faintly under his breath, Qingming does it again; burying his fingers inside and curling them to press against the bundle of nerves deep in his lover’s body. Boya chokes out something like a curse and presses into Qingming’s palm in an attempt to chase wicked fingers as he withdraws them slightly, only to jerk when they return with more force to stroke insistently over his prostate again. 

Qingming leans into his palm a little more, pinning Boya more thoroughly as he continues to delve his fingers into him, caressing and stroking the pleasure center in his body relentlessly; alternating randomly between firm stroking and light, fleeting nudges that has Boya  _ writhing  _ against the bedding, choking out hastily aborted sounds as he is mercilessly assaulted with pleasure. 

The tight, wet heat around Qingming’s fingers contracts and flutters with every stroke, walls all but convulsing as he persists; working the pads of his fingers into the spot in small circular motions with increasing pressure. Boya arches against his hand insistently but doesn’t get very far at all as Qingming works him with single minded determination, and the master smirks faintly as his lover hisses a frustrated sound between the gasps and choked back moans.    
  
_ “Ngh- fuck  _ Qingming!” Boya chokes out, and Qingming hums delightedly at the curse before driving his fingers in again; twisting and curling them in a way that has Boya’s thighs jolting and spreading wider around his knees, parting himself indecently but clearly too far gone to care. 

Qingming knows he should probably ease off of his lover’s prostate for a bit; the concentrated shocks of pleasure likely overwhelming in their intensity for someone who has never had it stimulated before, but Qingming’s fingers keep rubbing into it with impish abandon. He has no doubt that under Boya’s belly his cock is  _ weeping,  _ and a small part of him mourns that he cannot see it; the bedding is likely a  _ glorious  _ mess beneath it that he wants to  _ taste _ .

Abruptly, a loud, breathless moan splits the air, and Qingming’s mouth suddenly goes very dry as Boya buries a hand into his own hair and tugs, overwhelmed. Taking mercy on his lover but still very much burning up inside after that  _ moan;  _ Qingming eases his weight from his palm and removes his hand from his back, finally allowing Boya to arch into his touch- which he immediately does so with another shuddering groan that  _ does things  _ to him. 

_ “Boya.”  _ Qingming breathes, awed and so fervently aroused that words fail him as his lover cants his hips up and pushes back into the fingers delving inside him; chasing the pleasure of his touch with an urgency that betrays how  _ close  _ he is to what Qingming knows with intimate experience will be a  _ powerful  _ release. 

Groaning out a curse of his own, Qingming allows himself to tilt forward, catching his weight on one arm so he can drape himself over Boya’s heaving back and drop his head forward to kiss the back of his damp shoulder. Never once ceasing the pressing and stroking and thrusting of his fingers against the bundle of nerves inside him. 

Boya unclenches his fingers from his own hair to instead reach back to scrabble at Qingming’s shoulder, trembling fingers tangling in  _ his  _ hair before clutching over the back of his neck. Qingming responds by leaning down to press an open mouthed kiss against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Boya suddenly chokes out a frustrated whine and shoves himself back onto his fingers, body clenching and unclenching around his knuckles as release apparently proves elusive. Qingming rumbles lowly against his overheated skin in response. 

“You can do it.” He husks, voice unexpectedly rough as he switches from thrusting his fingers to keeping them buried deep, circling firmly, relentlessly against that place within hot, fluttering depths. Boya jerks, fingers clawing into the back of Qingming’s neck- unintentionally pulling his hair and no doubt scoring pink marks into the skin as he clenches his eyes shut and  _ whimpers.  _

Qingming rumbles and quickens the pace of his fingers; pressing and circling against Boya’s prostate faster, intent on driving him over the edge with just  _ this  _ because he  _ knows  _ he can-

“Come on sweetheart,” He coaxes against Boya’s neck, before dragging his lips higher to purr into his ear. _ “Come for me.” _ The words barely finish leaving his lips before Boya’s back abruptly bows and his channel contracts, squeezing impossibly tighter as his eyes all but roll back into his head. He comes hard around Qingming’s fingers with a tremulous keen, and Qingming drops his head forward with a groan to sink teeth gone slightly sharp into the sweaty curve of his shoulder. 

Qingming gentles his touch but doesn’t stop the circular motions against Boya’s sweet spot; fingers unrelenting as they delve into his convulsing heat to extend an already powerful orgasm far beyond it’s typical span. Boya whines in response, rutting back into his touch helplessly as the pleasure no doubt doesn’t  _ break.  _

Qingming knows  _ exactly  _ what this kind of orgasm feels like and he is thoroughly intent on making every second of it count. As Boya trembles and jerks under him he knows he just has to keep going a little longer, just a little more pressure at a certain angle and the right moment and-

Boya shudders hard, arches, and then  _ sobs  _ as he comes a second time on the tail of the first; his body convulsing around Qingming’s fingers. Qingming can’t help but dig his teeth in harder with a rumbling groan pulled from somewhere deep in his chest as Boya whimpers through the second orgasm; hips jerking into and then away from Qingming’s hand like he can’t decide if it’s too much or not enough. 

Qingming once again doesn’t stop, he just gentles the press of his fingers to draw out his lover’s pleasure as he finally removes his teeth from Boya’s shoulder; licking over the vividly marked skin in silent apology as he continues to play Boya’s body like an instrument. 

Boya trembles against the bedding beneath him. His breath coming in ragged, heaving pants with every other exhale ending on a short whine, and Qingming proves himself merciless as his touch turns firm inside his companion again; stroking and caressing his oversensitive prostate with full intentions of driving him to a third release that will likely have him seeing stars-

_ “Q-Qingming,”  _ Boya chokes, high and tremulous as his hand scrabbles at the back of Qingming’s neck, fingers catching in his hair and pulling as he jolts and tries to squirm away from the fingers buried in his ass with a whimper. Qingming hums against Boya’s skin and rises from his shoulder to peer down at his lover, only to freeze in shock, hand faltering and coming to a halt. 

Boya’s eyes are clenched shut, but there are overwhelmed tears wetting a path over the bridge of his nose and disappearing under his temple. Qingming makes a low, soothing sound as he gently,  _ finally  _ eases his fingers out of Boya’s twitching body. The instant the tips of his fingers slip free of his opening, Boya’s entire body slumps into the bedding all at once as if he were a puppet with his strings cut; boneless and heaving in lungful after lungful of air as he fights to collect himself after such pleasurable torment. 

Qingming swallows and curls slick fingers over the curve of Boya’s hip, lowering himself over his back to blanket him with his body to ground him as he comes down; leaning in to press a lingering kiss against the sharp edge of his lover’s sweaty brow. 

Boya opens his mouth to speak, promptly croaks, swallows and tries again.

“Holy shit.” 

Qingming snorts a surprised laugh into his damp hairline, pleased and  _ smug  _ as he nuzzles into the hair behind Boya’s ear to breathe the warm and familiar scent of him in _.  _

“I’m not finished with you yet.” He replies deviously as he grinds himself pointedly against Boya’s ass, breath hissing softly from between his teeth at the stimulation to his neglected cock. Boya shudders beneath him with a faint groan.

“I don’t think I can come again, Qingming.” His lover sighs, and Qingming hums wickedly before dropping a quick kiss onto his cheek and withdrawing from the warm line of Boya’s back.

“We’ll see about that.” He promises on a purr, before grabbing hold of Boya’s hips to flip him abruptly. Boya yelps, not expecting the show of strength as he’s resituated on his back without warning, Qingming looming above him from between his thighs. 

Qingming doesn’t pause before falling over him, leaning in and slotting their mouths together with a hungry groan; hair slipping down from over his shoulders and rumbling in satisfaction when Boya responds to him eagerly, parting his lips to accept Qingming’s insistent tongue with a pleased sound that the master swallows greedily; shivering as hands slide over his shoulders and down the broad line of his back, tangling in the trailing lengths of his hair with short nails scraping lightly against his skin. 

He kisses Boya with relish; savoring the taste of his lips and his soft sighs as arousal thrums with a constant simmering heat heavy in his belly. Qingming finally breaks the kiss after a long indulgent moment. Their lips part with a slick sound that goes right to his loins, and he can’t help but duck to kiss Boya again; a chaste peck just to hear the sound a second time before pulling away to slide down his lover’s body. 

Qingming presses his lip’s to Boya’s throat, kissing the center of it when it bobs as he swallows thickly. He sinks lower to lave his tongue over the base of his throat, dipping it into the hollow between Boya’s collarbones and then lower still to press an opened mouth kiss to the center of his chest. Boya sighs in response and drags his palms up Qingming’s back; fingers smoothing over the curves of muscle in his shoulders before sweeping up his neck and into his hair. Qingming hums as Boya buries his fingers in the strands to lightly scratch at his scalp, shuddering pleasantly at the sensation. 

Shifting, Qingming slides his mouth across Boya’s firm chest to close his lips over a pert nipple, softly sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. Boya’s breath hitches and he uses his grip on Qingming’s hair to press him closer to his chest; arching into his lips as Qingming suckles harder in response before catching the flesh between his teeth to worry it gently. Boya groans, pressing Qingming further into his skin as he releases the nipple from his mouth to flatten his tongue over it; licking the salty tang of sweat from his flesh and savoring the taste of his lover’s skin.

After a drawn out moment of bathing Boya’s nipple with his tongue; Qingming pulls away to drift over to its twin, sucking the pert flesh into his mouth to suck and worry with his teeth to the sound of Boya’s hitching breaths; thoroughly enjoying each sound and taste as Boya arches into his mouth; encouraging the attention until his nipple is bitten dark and left glossy with saliva. 

“Qingming.” Boya sighs, and the master shudders at the breathy quality of his voice before releasing his nipple to slide lower once more; pressing and dragging his lips and tongue down the firm planes of Boya’s chest and stomach until his tongue finds the tang of come smeared into his skin. Qingming rumbles and flattens his tongue over the mess; lapping it up greedily and savoring the musky taste of his lover’s pleasure as Boya’s fingers tighten in his hair. 

As he cleans the mess from Boya’s skin; Qingming’s chin finds the half hard flesh of his lover’s cock and he dips lower to press his tongue against the base of it. He drags it up the length of him and huffs in vague amusement when Boya squirms and tugs on his hair, still apparently oversensitive. Qingming doesn’t allow him to escape however; pushing through the tension on his scalp to close his lips over the flushed head of Boya’s cock; sucking gently and drawing forth a stuttering groan that sounds somewhere between pleasure and pain. 

Qingming sinks his lips lower over his companions half hard length, taking it deeper into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks as he sneaks a hand back between Boya’s spread thighs. His impish fingers find Boya’s slicked crease and Qingming dips one, and then two fingers back into the wet heat, groaning around the cock in his mouth as they sink easily past the rim. 

His lover’s body accepts the intrusion with little hesitation after having been so thoroughly coaxed open before; combined with the excessive amount of oil that had been diligently worked into him and the post orgasm bonelessness, the third finger that Qingming carefully dips into him is received with only slight resistance. 

Boya gasps, legs widening and knees hiking up to frame Qingming’s shoulders; fingers turning claw like against his scalp as his body is parted beyond what it has been before Qingming cautiously works the third finger into him as he swallows his cock; slowing considerably when the slick heat engulfing his knuckles flutters and tightens reflexively before gradually letting up, allowing him to delve deeper. 

Boya arches into his mouth; cock still only at half mast against his tongue but Qingming knows it’s only a matter of time before his lover is hard and aching again despite his earlier protest- his level of cultivation lends him a much shorter refractory period than mundane men and the added stimulation of having had his prostate so thoroughly assaulted would only hasten the process more. Qingming himself has little in the way of a  _ cool down  _ between bouts; his touch of demon blood working in his favor in the most  _ delightful  _ of ways.

Withdrawing from Boya’s length, Qingming allows it to fall from his lips with a wet pop as he works his fingers deeper; stretching his opening further and making his companion groan faintly and release his hair to instead grasp fistfuls of the bedding at his sides. 

“That’s it,” Qingming breathes hoarsely as he slowly pulls his fingers halfway free, the wet drag of them smoothly retreating from his companions twitching channel before pressing back in with a slick sound. “You’re doing so well.” He praises, and Boya shudders out another moan before abruptly rolling his hips down and taking them deep all at once with a whine; fingers clenching into the sheets and powerful thighs trembling against Qingming’s shoulders. 

Qingming curses under his breath, inordinately riled by the reaction and left fighting for restraint; already spread thin after enduring the sweet torment of steadily taking Boya apart piece by piece for so long. His cock is a heavy, pulsing weight in his pants that he has no doubt is leaving a damp spot against the fabric. It’s neglected and fiercely wanton under the steep, heady rush of arousal that burns like wildfire in his veins; beating in tandem with his heart and the urge to  _ have  _ and  _ take  _ and  _ claim- _

He twists his fingers within the heat of Boya’s body, driving them deep into his sweet spot almost without thought and is immediately rewarded by Boya arching off the bed with a choked cry that finally snaps the tenuous thread of his control. 

Qingming pulls his fingers free of the clutch of Boya’s channel and clambers back to his knees before grabbing Boya by the waist. His lover barely gets the chance to protest the loss before he’s being manhandled with more force than either of them expect, going willingly nonetheless as he’s unceremoniously flipped back onto his stomach.

Snatching up the vial of oil half lost in the bedding with one hand, Qingming fumbles with the ties of his pants with the other; yanking the knots free impatiently as he pulls the seal free of the vial with his teeth. Boya remains pliant beneath him as Qingming finally succeeds in freeing his aching cock from the confines of fabric. He gracelessly upends the last of the oil into his palm before taking himself in hand to smear the slick over his length, exhaling roughly at the touch of his own hand after remaining unstimulated for so long. It’s almost a battle to not continue, to stop himself from thrusting into the clench of his own fingers and chasing the pleasure of it as arousal beats a heavy drum in his belly, threatening to undo him entirely before he has even truly tasted the pleasure of Boya’s body. 

That thought alone is enough for Qingming to release his cock, now thoroughly wet with oil, before he leans down to curl his hands beneath Boya’s hips once again. His lover shifts, uncertain of his intentions, before grunting as Qingming abruptly hoists his belly from the bed. Boya scrambles to get his knees under himself as Qingming crowds in close to slide the length of his cock between firm cheeks and over his wet opening. 

Boya makes a surprised and needy sound as he finally gets himself situated on all fours; hair a midnight fall over one shoulder and back a tantalizing curve of sweat glistening skin that makes Qingming’s mouth water as he ruts against the messy, oil slicked curve of his ass for a moment. He’s overcome with the image of Boya so willingly  _ presenting  _ to him before swallowing thickly and taking himself in hand. Qingming keeps one hand on Boya’s hip as he lines himself up, resting the flushed head of his cock against his lover’s well prepared entrance before slowly,  _ carefully  _ pressing in. 

He meets resistance instantly- his cock is much larger than his fingers; but the excessive amount of oil he had diligently worked into his lover fulfills its purpose, and after a moment of going nowhere Boya’s opening finally gives; parting around him to allow the head of his cock to disappear past the threshold. The feeling is  _ rapturous,  _ and Qingming chokes out a deep, hoarse groan that feels pulled from his bones as he sinks in slowly. His lover’s body swallows him almost hungrily- slick, hot walls closing tight around him and Qingming thinks for one delirious moment that he has just found nirvana as Boya shudders in his grasp and makes a soft, strained sound.

It almost kills him to do it, but Qingming fights the instinct to shove himself deep and forces himself to pause before even half of his cock is sheathed to allow Boya to adjust. His thumbs stroke soothingly against Boya’s hips as he draws in a deep breath that does absolutely nothing to calm the wild beat of his heart or the rushing clamor of arousal that pulses through his entire being from his cock and the tight, slick grasp of his lover’s body stretched gloriously around it. 

He wants to move so, so badly- wants to sink himself as deep as he can and deeper still. Wants so desperately to pin and rut and  _ take  _ that he trembles with it, hands tightening and fingers digging almost bruisingly into the bones of Boya’s hips as sweat beads on his skin and his breath leaves him in a stuttering growl. 

Beneath him, Boya pants and rolls his shoulders once before abruptly shoving himself back, impaling himself fully on Qingming’s cock with a choked cry that Qingming barely hears over the sudden howl of blood in his ears as his length is engulfed completely and without warning. He bucks instinctively, thrusting himself deeper into his lover’s willing body before his brain can catch up and tell him what a terrible idea that is. 

Qingming freezes when he finally registers what had just happened, going almost preternaturally still with a choked apology halfway to spilling from his tongue before Boya clenches around him, and all thought promptly scatters to the seven winds as pleasure suffuses him. It’s radiating from the base of his cock to the rest of him and setting the fires of his ardour roaring to new heights; before he can think better of it he’s withdrawing smoothly before rolling his hips forward to bury himself again, and again and again until he’s driving himself into Boya not unlike a rutting  _ animal _ . 

Boya, for his part, takes it- if not with ease than with enthusiasm; pushing back into Qingming’s thrusts with high and breathy sounds that crack on every other panting exhale; overwhelmed but too intent on taking Qingming to slow down. 

_“Hhhah_ , Qingming!” He keens, and Qingming’s face twists, lips pulling away from suddenly sharp teeth in a rictus of pleasure as he growls; lost in his lover’s body with little way back so long as Boya keeps making those _sounds._

Straightening, Qingming towers over his lover’s bowed back and plants his knees into the mattress before using his grip on Boya’s waist to pull him back into his next thrust. Their sweat damp flesh strikes together audibly as he slams himself inside, punching a cry out of Boya that echoes through the room. Qingming grunts and does it again; yanking his lover back onto his cock with every forward drive of his hips in a steady, hard pace that lightly creaks the bed below them and appeals to the insistent, wild urge of his inflamed blood to  _ claim  _ and to  _ breed _ . 

_ “Mine.”  _ He growls witlessly as he  _ takes _ . All thoughts of going slow and gentle have long since left him, burned from his mind by the heat of Boya closed tight around him and the sound of his cries- at long last finally,  _ gorgeously  _ unrestrained. Qingming bows over him and takes him with wild abandon- praise and endearments and  _ filthy  _ things clamoring inside his head like so much nonsense; he doesn’t know what stays there or spills from his lips without his control as he loses himself in the pleasure and  _ ruts. _

_ “Ngh,  _ so good for me, sweetheart.” He pants- “You take me so well.” He groans- “Going to fill you up. _ ”  _ He growls _ \- “I love you.”  _ He moans, and Boya hears it all and  _ keens.  _

Sweat trickles down his back as he moves, sticking long strands of his hair to his skin where it hasn’t slipped forward over his shoulder to sway with his movements. The ends whisper against Boya’s equally damp skin as he is tirelessly pushed and pulled onto Qingming’s cock, just as lost as him. 

He won’t last if he keeps this pace up, Qingming realizes vaguely- he’s getting closer to the edge with alarming speed and that is not what he wants. He wants to take Boya apart; wants to draw it out as long as he possibly can; wants to  _ savor  _ the feeling of his lover’s body closing tight and sweet around him-

Qingming slams into Boya, burying himself to the hilt, and  _ stops.  _ It almost physically pains him, but he does it. He pants, hands trembling against his lover’s hips as his heart continues to pound in his breast; sweat beading on his brow and in his hairline as he swallows loudly, throat clicking dry as he painstakingly,  _ torturously  _ reels himself back in- gropes for the thread of control and holds it tight as Boya makes a confused, offended sound below him and pushes himself back into Qingming’s lap needily. 

Obliging him, Qingming keeps the tenuous thread of restraint coiled tight around his mental fist and rolls his hips without withdrawing-  _ grinding  _ himself into Boya’s body to be rewarded by a hoarse moan. The heat around him flutters before closing tighter at the deep touch of his cock pressing against all the right places and staying there. 

Inspired, Qingming releases one of Boya’s hips to drop his palm onto his back; sliding it up the length of his sweaty spine to press between his shoulders until Boya gets the hint and goes down- resting his weight on his elbows instead of his hands, presenting himself  _ beautifully  _ and providing Qingming the perfect angle in which to sink deeper. They moan in tandem at the change and what it does for them both. 

Qingming chances a thrust; a languid roll of his hips that sees him pulling out only half way before grinding back in. Boya abruptly collapses lower in response; elbows folding under him and sending him chest and face first into the bedding with a choked whine that makes Qingming’s cock twitch  _ hard _ inside him. 

“There!” Boya demands breathlessly, and Qingming is helpless but to do as bid; angling his rolling thrusts to press and grind against that spot over and over until Boya is fisting his hands into the sheets and muffling his sounds into the bedding- Qingming decides instantly that’s unacceptable and releases a hip, bowing low over his lover’s back and reaching to bury his fingers into the base of his dark hair before  _ pulling.  _

Boya barks out a surprised sound as his face is unceremoniously yanked from the bedding. Qingming uses the indelicate grip on his lover’s hair to reel him back into a steep arch that has Boya scrabbling at the sheets but falling just shy of grasping them with a high, needy sound as he’s essentially suspended over the bedding by the grip on his long hair. 

Qingming is fully aware of Boya’s often denied weakness for having his hair pulled and mercilessly uses it to his own advantage as he jerks his hips forward; thrusting into the tight heat gripping his cock with unintentional force that might have pushed Boya back to the bed if not for the fingers holding tight to the rope of his hair. 

Boya chokes, his body clenching around Qingming tellingly as he’s forced back onto the cock impaling him by the grip in his hair. Qingming groans and does it again, mournfully waving his hard won restraint goodbye as his lover snaps a hand back to cling to his wrist; holding on with a trembling keen as the hot, thick length spearing him from behind nails his oversensitive prostate. 

“ _ There _ you are,” Qingming purrs as Boya abandons all notions of propriety and shoves himself back; greedily taking his pleasure with an unrestrained ardor that has Qingming biting into his lip hard to distract himself lest he come right then _.  _ He’s already getting close- Boya feels  _ divine  _ around him and the sounds,  _ gods the sounds- _

“H-harder!” Boya gasps, and Qingming obliges with a growl; abruptly driving himself into his lover’s body hard enough that his hips strike Boya’s ass audibly. The sound does exactly nothing to delay Qingming’s approaching release as he returns to a steady but brutal pace; giving Boya exactly what he asked for and then some to his very _vocal_ appreciation- each thrust punching a high, pleasured sound from Boya’s lips that increases in volume with every stroke of Qingming’s hips, until he’s all but crying out with every shove of Qingming’s cock in him. 

Qingming chokes, groaning loudly as the searing coil deep in his belly winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap with every sound and fluttering clench of Boya’s channel around him. He swallows, throat dry from his ragged panting as his insides tense warningly, and suddenly Qingming  _ needs.  _

He releases Boya’s hair on his next thrust, sending his lover pitching forward into the mattress with a startled gasp, moving too late to catch himself as he lands chest down in the bedding. Qingming follows him down, bracing his weight on his hands on either side of Boya’s head, half draping himself along his sweat slick back; hair spilling over them both as he  _ mounts him  _ and rolls his hips forward in short, insistent thrusts that mercilessly grinds deep and directly into Boya’s sweet spot. 

Boya claws his fingers into the sheets and sobs, arching back into Qingming helplessly; trembling against and around him as his prostate is once again ruthlessly assaulted. Qingming clenches suddenly burning eyes shut, dropping his head forward to press his damp brow into the back of Boya’s neck; gritting sharp teeth and fisting hands into the blankets on either side of his lover as he ruts savagely into the tight, wet warmth surrounding him with an untamed single-mindedness that shocks him.

He isn’t sure how long it lasts, but it feels like a too short eternity of mindlessly driving his hips into Boya; pressing deep and wanting  _ deeper  _ before his thrusts start to stutter and jerk, and suddenly he growls, long and low from somewhere deep in his chest because this is it, he’s lost- overcome and slamming forward brutally to spill himself within what is  _ his _ , coming so unbelievably hard that white spots dance at the edges of his vision even with his burning eyes closed. 

Boya gasps as Qingming pulses within him, marking him from the inside out with his release and filling him to the brim. Qingming pants and tries to press  _ deeper _ because it  _ doesn’t end,  _ and he wheezes, incredulous and wild from the force of the orgasm that stretches on and on for an age as Boya convulses around him; clenching hot and slick against the sensitive base of his cock in a way that has Qingming seeing stars and pulsing  _ more,  _ grinding his cock in and mindlessly working his spend in as far as he can because he needs to-  _ he needs to mark, needs to take and claim and breed his-  _

_ “Ngh.”  _ He grunts, and ruts forward instinctively; powerless to  _ not  _ because he needs to get deeper, something in him going wild and riled as Boya whines, wanton and  _ desperate  _ because he’s likely too full and still hard. Qingming can’t stop pushing into him- trying to force  _ more  _ of himself in but there  _ is  _ no more and Boya must be  _ right there  _ because he’s rewarded with Boya’s body going taut under him and clamping down on his length with a groan that cracks and  _ breaks  _ as he comes on his cock in his third orgasm of the night; back bowing and juddering through his release and Qingming rumbles because  _ his mate’s pleasure is beautiful- _

And then Boya abruptly goes boneless beneath him, all but sliding off of Qingming’s softening cock as his knees give out and slip on the bedding, dropping him to the mattress completely.

Qingming pants, absolutely wrecked and trying to piece his instinct fried brain back together. Finally able to crack his eyes open and blink down at his lover, pliant and silent under him to such a degree that after a moment alarm bells begin to go off in his stupefied brain. 

“Boya?” He croaks, and licks his lips anxiously when no response is forthcoming. Balancing his weight on one unsteady arm, Qingming lifts a hand to gently sweep inky strands of hair from Boya’s face, and promptly stalls when he finds him out cold. Swallowing thickly, Qingming nudges his shoulder, and when Boya merely lolls bonelessly under his hand he stares blankly for a long moment before abruptly barking a hoarse laugh. 

“Oh sweetheart.” He croons, all but glowing from the force of smug satisfaction that purrs within him at having apparently exceeded expectations-  _ well and truly claimed, marked inside and out and his- _

Buoyed on frankly ridiculous male pride and not caring one bit, Qingming reluctantly extracts himself from between his lover’s limp thighs. Climbing from the bed, his legs tremble enough to almost pitch him straight into the floor. 

Cursing softly, Qingming steadies himself and half staggers to the wash table beside his vanity, retrieving the clean, folded washcloth from beside the brass basin and dipping it into the cool water within; squeezing the excess moisture out before turning and wobbling his way back to the bed and his debauched, insensate lover. 

He lifts a knee onto the mattress and tilts his head, eyeing Boya thoughtfully for a moment before humming lowly and climbing back onto the bed properly. Qingming lowers himself to half lean into Boya’s side before carefully reaching between his thighs with the washcloth. His lover doesn’t stir as the cool cloth comes into contact with his overheated skin and Qingming swallows dryly as he gently slips the fabric into his crease to clean the oil from his skin; wiping delicately over his thoroughly used entrance to mop up the honestly staggering amount of spend Qingming had left behind.  _ His, his, his- _

Rumbling softly, Qingming sets the cloth aside and gently prods at Boya’s slick opening; effortlessly dipping a finger inside- and the action is immediately accompanied by a wet sound that has Qingming inexplicably heated because it’s not the oil that does it. Boya  _ leaks  _ around his finger, and Qingming shivers as his spent cock, still free of his pants, gives an interested twitch and he almost wants to give it a  _ look  _ because why is he like this- he doesn’t think he’s ever produced so…  _ much  _ before. However, he also hasn’t been inside his lover before tonight either so it’s entirely possible that it had stirred him  _ that  _ much and is it any wonder that he rutted Boya like a  _ demon.  _

He almost can’t help it when he withdraws his finger to chase the trickle of his seed down Boya’s skin; scooping it up to slip it back into him with a low, contented sound and thoughtlessly pressing in with two fingers to work it all deeper-  _ keep him full, keep him his- _

Boya’s soaked channel closes around his fingers, and Qingming pauses guiltily as Boya announces his return to the land of the living with a weak groan that is equal parts protesting and pleasurably pained. 

Qingming gently removes his fingers from his lover’s slick opening and quickly retrieves the washcloth he’d abandoned on his thigh. He returns to cleaning his exhausted companion up as if he  _ hadn’t  _ just been riling himself back up again by sticking his fingers where they probably shouldn’t be after all of  _ that-  _ and he’s still fixated on how much come he had pumped into him,  _ good gods where had it all come from.  _

He keeps his touch gentle as he cleans the combination of oil and seed from between Boya’s thighs; restraining himself with entirely feigned but still remarkable aplomb when Boya stretches beneath his hands- back arching and shapely legs going tight, emphasizing every dip and curve of muscle along his body and Qingming clutches the washcloth tight between white knuckled fingers and licks his lips as his eyes burn again.

“Keep doing that and I won’t be held accountable for my actions.” He husks, because honestly it needs to be said before he climbs right back over Boya and  _ takes  _ him all over again. Boya pauses mid stretch, and when Qingming turns to eye him intently he can  _ see  _ his lover weighing the thought without even needing to get a look at his face- it’s all there in the tilt of his head, the roll of his shoulders, the way he cants his hips  _ just so  _ and the warm, interested scent of him that’s already deeply tinged with the musk of sex and  _ Qingming _ \- and he thinks he might have found nirvana this night and awakened a  _ minx.  _

His cock gives a very interested twitch at the thought, and Qingming abruptly tosses the washcloth over his shoulder and rolls from Boya’s hip to stretch himself out and languish beside him; if only to level him with a look that his lover can  _ see.  _

“You’re going to be sore enough as it is.” He warns him, tone a little more smug than intended and Boya rolls his eyes before letting himself go boneless again. 

“You started it.” Boya grumbles into his pillow and Qingming tilts his head in acknowledgment because it’s entirely fair, he did. 

“There’s always tomorrow.” Qingming purrs, smirking and only half joking, and Boya flings out an arm to slap Qingming’s bare chest in response. It’s a weak blow, more akin to a kittenish bat than an actual strike, lacking any of the real force he knows his lover is capable of- but Qingming drops his eyes to the hand and says, “Ow.” anyway. 

“You fight like a monk, but fuck like a  _ demon _ .” Boya says. He sounds incredulous and amazed and  _ heated  _ all at once and Qingming chokes out a startled laugh that edges on a cackle. 

_“Well...”_ He drawls ambiguously once his mirth has waned, but doesn’t finish the sentence because Boya levels him with a _look_ that has him biting his lip to fight off another laugh. 

Before Boya can grace him with a no doubt  _ delightful  _ retort; Qingming rolls himself onto his lovers back, knees on either side of Boya’s thighs and ducks to press an open mouthed kiss to one of the vivid marks bitten into his skin. Boya grunts; apparently deciding to shelve the response for later, and squirms under him. 

Qingming lifts his weight off Boya’s back and shuffles lower; feathering kisses down his companions spine as he descends. Beneath him, Boya grumbles faintly; but Qingming ignores him with a wicked smile as he draws level with his lovers rump and presses his lips to the imprint of teeth on the curve of one cheek. 

“Qingming, what are you up to  _ now?”  _ Boya asks exasperatedly, but very decidedly does nothing to stop him. Qingming hums as he settles himself comfortably between Boya’s legs and grasps his flank in both hands. 

“Cleaning you up properly.” He replies breezily. Boya goes rigid under his hands. 

“What?” Boya asks confusedly, before sputtering as Qingming spreads him wide  _ again _ . “Don’t you dare, Qingming-  _ Ngh!”  _ Boya starts, only to choke when Qingming swoops in to drag his tongue over his abused entrance. 

Qingming groans softly and does it again; pressing the flat of his tongue against Boya’s rim to lick the oil and spend that has escaped his lovers body since the brief wipe down with the cloth. Boya shudders under his hands and jolts as Qingming hungrily dips his tongue past his loosened threshold, chasing the taste of himself into Boya’s body and lapping it from him with greedy enthusiasm. 

Boya’s body parts for him easily and Qingming rumbles contentedly. He sinks his tongue as deep as it can go, delving after the seed worked so diligently into Boya’s depths and pressing it deeper, licking along his twitching walls and lapping up the excess. 

Boya curses, breathing faster and heavier the longer Qingming’s tongue spreads him open and devours him. Qingming groans deep in his chest as the simmering heat of arousal makes a steady return; the taste of himself and the clench of Boya’s body around his tongue stoking the fires in his belly. Hard again, Qingming shudders and presses himself into the bedding; grinding against the mattress as he gorges himself on his lovers body.

“Y-you’re impossible,” Boya gasps, incredulous, “Shameless, ins-  _ hahh  _ insatiable!” He chokes as Qingming spreads him wider and all but shoves his face into his crease. Qingming hums as he withdraws his tongue and glances up at his companion.

“Complaining, are we?” He returns with an amused tone, “Would you like me to stop?” He asks sincerely. Boya scoffs a sound not unlike a laugh and arches his hips enticingly. 

“You started this, Qingming,” Boya retorts lowly, “So you better finish it.” Qingming huffs a laugh of his own and pulls away from Boya’s ass to admire his companions sweat damp and hair strewn back for a moment before rising onto his knees and reaching for Boya’s waist. 

“How can I possibly refuse such a request?” Qingming demurs, grasping his lovers hips before flipping him unceremoniously once again. Boya makes a surprised sound but goes with the motion; settling onto his back and resituating his legs to frame Qingming’s hips before leveling him with a raised brow.

“It wasn’t a request.” He retorts imperiously, and Qingming hums heatedly as he tips forward over his companion; blanketing him with his body and ducking in for a kiss. Boya accepts his mouth with no care for where it’s been and sighs as Qingming feeds him his tongue; licking into his mouth and deepening the kiss. 

Boya reaches up and threads his hands into Qingming’s hair; framing the sides of his head with his fingers and holding him in place. Qingming groans and sinks closer; pressing them together from belly to chest and all but pinning Boya to the mattress with his weight as he savors the wet slide of their lips and tongues. Arousal beats a heady drum in him again and Qingming thinks that this man will be the death of him one day. 

Beneath the press of Qingming’s stomach Boya is soft; spent but demanding anyway and Qingming is helpless to deny him even though he thinks he probably should. He hasn’t been gentle with Boya despite his best efforts. He had lost himself to baser desires and the frantic clamor of instincts he normally keeps under lock and key to rut his lover with more vigor than strictly advised for a first time. But Boya has done nothing to censure him; has expressed no discomfort and has been as enthusiastic as Qingming himself throughout the whole venture, and Qingming hadn’t been able to help himself. 

He’ll just have to ensure that Boya rests tomorrow, and perhaps some days after, because he  _ will  _ be sore. Qingming is well versed in the art of the post-coital  _ hobble  _ to know as much _. _

Boya arches into him before framing his hips with his thighs, then closes his legs around him to pull him pointedly closer. Qingming rumbles into his lips and grinds forward against his ass; delighting in the needy sound Boya feeds him in response. 

They really shouldn’t; but Boya is kissing him so ardently, pulling him in with legs hooked around his hips and Qingming is  _ weak- _

He rolls his hips forward again and this time his cock finds Boya’s slick entrance; gliding over it smoothly before Qingming readjusts and slips carefully inside him with a deep, drawn out groan that Boya echoes against his lips. Qingming sinks to the hilt with ease; his lovers body still slick and pliant after their previous bout and once he’s fully seated he settles himself against Boya and  _ remains  _ that way. 

Boya squirms beneath him; heels digging into Qingming’s flank to try and encourage him to move- but Qingming stays buried and indulges in the decadent press of their lips and the wet warmth around his cock. Boya must sense his intention, or the lack thereof for the moment because he grudgingly subsides and untangles his fingers from Qingming’s hair to slide his palms down the back of his shoulders. 

Qingming catches Boya’s plump bottom lip between his teeth and tugs it gently as he withdraws from the kiss before tilting to press his damp brow against Boya’s to catch his eyes. 

“Hold on to me.” Qingming husks into the narrow space between them. Boya complies readily; sweeping his hands up the curve of Qingming’s spine to grasp the backs of his shoulders and widening the cradle of his thighs around Qingming’s hips. Satisfied, Qingming withdraws his cock from Boya’s heat for only a moment before pressing back in slowly; rumbling softly as his lover gasps against his lips in response. Qingming does it again; pulling out only slightly before rocking back into him leisurely, keeping their brows pressed together and gazes locked. 

Qingming keeps the pace slow and languid and infinitely gentle in the way he  _ should  _ have from the very beginning; his previous mindless rutting having apparently satisfied the wilder part of him enough to allow him to do so. 

Boya’s eyes shutter when Qingming presses in deep to rock against all the right places, and moans softly between them. Qingming finds himself captivated as he continues the unhurried half thrusts; eyes fixed on Boya’s beautiful face as his lover gradually begins to come apart beneath him again with little sighing moans that are somehow infinitely sweeter than his lovely, unrestrained cries. 

Their wild, passionate coupling in the beginning had been exquisite and uniquely ruinous to them both; immensely enjoyable and gratifying in intensity and pleasure. However, Qingming finds a certain level of ruin in this as well; it is neither a wild, obsessive claiming nor even a good, hard fucking- this is  _ love  _ and Qingming moans softly as he makes it sweetly to Boya like he had intended to from the start.

Qingming isn’t sure how long they rock together steadily for; but it feels like a breath and an eternity in one and he doesn’t want it to end. The gentle, languid glide of his cock and the hot, slick grasp of Boya’s channel around it is decadent; winding the pleasurable coil in Qingming slowly but steadily tighter in counterpoint to the frenzied rush of before. Boya must feel it too; because his short nails bite lightly into Qingming’s shoulder blades as his lips part on a gasp. Qingming can’t help but close the negligible distance between them to take Boya’s mouth in response; sliding their lips together wetly and savoring the taste of him while simultaneously relishing the warmth of his lover against and around his body. 

The build up this time is gradual yet somehow  _ deeper,  _ and Qingming groans around Boya’s tongue and quickens the roll of his hips marginally; withdrawing only slightly before sinking into the glorious heat of his companions body and pressing himself unerringly against Boya’s oversensitive core on every pass. Their bodies stay pressed together; skin hot and damp between them with Boya’s length still trapped and spent beneath Qingming’s belly. 

_ “Qingming.”  _ Boya gasps against his lips as he is  _ loved  _ so sweetly; legs tightening around Qingming’s waist and fingernails digging harder into his shoulders. Qingming groans at the slight pain and rocks into Boya with a little more force; pace steady and languid but gaining a relentless edge that is soon rewarded with a quivering whine that Qingming swallows hungrily as Boya begins to tense. Short nails bite into and down Qingming’s shoulders and Boya throws his head back with eyes clenched shut, tightening around his cock and coming on it hard but  _ dry  _ with a soft, broken mewl that sounds drawn from his very marrow, pleasured and tortured all at once.

Qingming moans at the enthralling vision of Boya falling apart beneath him; his lovers face twisted in almost agonized pleasure as Qingming works him through his unexpected but incredibly delightful release. His companion is almost certainly wrung dry at this point; still limp beneath Qingming’s belly but body shuddering through a powerful climax anyway. 

The simmering coil in Qingming winds tight as Boya squeezes around his cock; wet and hot and  _ magnificent.  _ Combined with the enchantingly beautiful image Boya presents in his blissful torment, Qingming is helpless but to snap his hips forward in a thrust that punches another sweetly agonized sound from his lover. He does it again, harder- and rumbles deeply as the coil in his core suddenly tenses and springs and Qingming comes devastatingly hard a second time; pressing deep and spilling more of himself into Boya with a shuddering moan of his lover’s name.

Boya’s thighs  _ quake  _ around him as he’s thoroughly  _ filled  _ and Qingming drops his head to bury his face in Boya’s sweaty neck as he jerks and pulses inside him; rocking himself mindlessly into his companions body as he continues to spill hot and wet inside him in a mirror to their first bout. Boya’s nails scrape against the skin of his back; and Qingming distantly thinks that his shoulders are going to bear a vivid reminder of Boya’s pleasure for days to come. 

Boya’s legs abruptly slip from his hips; falling into an indecent spread on the mattress with Qingming still nestled comfortably between them. For a moment Qingming thinks his lover has blacked out again, and he unburies his face from Boya’s throat to gaze down at his panting companion. Qingming is relieved to find him still present if looking absolutely  _ exhausted _ , and he hums lowly, soothingly as he leans down to press a soft , chaste kiss to Boya’s lips.

It takes a beat, but Boya returns the sweet kiss tiredly, finally removing his nails from Qingming’s back to drop heavy arms above his head over the pillow. Qingming kisses him chastly again, decidedly not moving; he remains blanketed over Boya with his spent cock nestled inside him, unwilling to part from him just yet. Lifting one elbow from the mattress Qingming smooths a hand down his lovers side; petting softly over his ribs, his hip and his thigh in gentle, repetitive motions even as he presses light, fleeting kisses against his lips, chin, and cheeks. 

Boya doesn’t seem to mind the tender affections- sighing tiredly against Qingming’s lips when they return to pepper a kiss over them. They’re both sticky, sweaty and over warm, but neither particularly cares as they bask in the residual echoes of their pleasure and the closeness of the other. 

It doesn’t take long before Boya’s eyes slip shut, gentled beneath Qingming’s hand and lips. Qingming hums lowly and drags his lips across his lovers softly; testing his awareness and just because he can. Boya breathes gently against him but doesn’t respond, and Qingming smirks faintly at his dozing companion; exhausted and well and truly fucked out with Qingming’s cock still nestled inside him. 

He is loath to disturb Boya from his blissed dozing; but they are still connected and quite  _ sticky.  _ With infinite care Qingming finally eases his spent length from the warmth of his lovers body; his exhausted companion making a faint sound of discomfort as he does so. Qingming presses a kiss to his cheek in silent apology and carefully lifts himself from Boya’s body; shifting until he can half tumble into the bedding beside him with a vaguely surprised grunt when his limbs refuse to cooperate. 

Boya doesn’t move from his thoroughly debauched sprawl even when Qingming falls gracelessly beside him; arms limp atop the pillow above his head and legs akimbo against the bedding, all but projecting the air of a contented, purring cat. Qingming huffs a soft laugh; pleased at and for him as he rolls away from his languishing companion to attempt the dubious task of climbing from the bed. 

If Qingming had been jelly legged before; now he is as steady as a newborn foal as he stands and forces his legs to hold his weight and carry him. Boya snorts at Qingming’s wobbling knees; apparently cognizant enough to take amusement in his difficulty as the master retraces his previous steps to the washtable beside the vanity. The cloth he had used the first time is lost somewhere in the room after Qingming had tossed it carelessly over his shoulder in his haste to ravish his lover’s body a second time. 

Qingming huffs in mock offence as he retrieves another cloth from the drawer beneath the basin and dips it into the cold, clean water. 

“I’d like to see you walk with any grace right now.” Qingming retorts to the basin in response to his lovers amusement. Boya grunts; vaguely heedless of the words, and Qingming turns to return to the bed as his companion props a knee up and rolls his head to the side to raise a superior brow at him. Qingming smirks wickedly at the look; amused and knowing.

“I’ll have you know that I am in possession of a strong constitution.” Boya replies loftily. Qingming hums as he cautiously climbs into bed; damp cloth in hand. 

“Remember those words in the morning,” Qingming says pleasantly as he settles at Boya’s hip in a mirror of before and reaches between Boya’s spread thighs with the washcloth. Boya grunts as he is tenderly wiped clean of the combined mess of lubricant and  _ Qingming.  _ “Because mark  _ my  _ words Boya, you will eat them.” Qingming quips with a devious smile as he slides the cloth north of his companions crease to gently pass it over his spent length and sticky belly. Boya scoffs, before twitching away from the cloth in Qingming’s hand as it brushes against his oversensitive head. Qingming obligingly skirts around it. 

“I’ve endured far worse things and walked away just fine.” Boya returns matter of factly. Qingming finishes cleaning the worst of the slick from his companions skin and carelessly wipes himself off before tossing the cloth over his shoulder to join its counterpart in misplacement. 

“Something you’re not telling me, Boya?” Qingming asks impishly as he clambers only slightly unsteadily back up to Boya’s side before dropping himself face first into the bedding with a grunt of effort. Boya makes a vaguely affronted noise at the correctly interpreted, incredibly lewd implication and once again snaps out an arm; this time his palm slaps loudly against Qingming’s ass with  _ force  _ and Qingming yelps. 

_ “Shameless!”  _ Boya hisses. Qingming muffles his honest to god's  _ cackle  _ into the bedding before abruptly rolling over; settling on his back and snaking out an arm to worm under his bristling lover. 

“You always sound so surprised,” Qingming snorts as he gently reels Boya in; tugging him in until his companion gets the hint and laboriously rolls himself onto Qingming with a grumpy huff- as if he is merely indulging Qingming’s clinginess and not at all eager for post coital snuggling _ himself _ . 

“The depths of your depravity never cease to amaze.” Boya snarks as he lays himself upon Qingming’s chest; throwing a leg over the master's thigh and nosing into his neck before promptly going boneless. Qingming titters delightedly and drapes an arm over Boya’s waist. 

“I forever strive to impress.” He demurs amusedly. Boya snorts into his neck and hooks an arm across Qingming’s torso like the prickly octopus he adamantly denies being. 

“You manage that on occasion, yes.” Boya allows grudgingly. Qingming hums knowing and smug and absolutely unrepentant at the fact. 

“Did I perform to your lofty standards, Boya?” Qingming simpers, only to bleat in surprise when his nipple is promptly pinched. 

“Don’t fish, you hedonist.” Boya drawls. Qingming chokes back an undignified giggle. 

The next morning Qingming’s warnings are validated. Boya is not fine, and Qingming laughs the entire way to the washroom with his bristling, indignant lover in his arms.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Get rekt Boya. You ain't walking anywhere for a while. 
> 
> Not sorry ~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ
> 
> Also fun fact: Men can in fact climax while soft. It can be wet or dry, but after a while it starts to become painful XD


End file.
